| Thank you, Mr. Officer great
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| For all the things you said to me
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| For all the good that you have ever done
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| Without you, what would I be?
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| You’re the gas upon my flames
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| My love and rage all roll up into one
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| For every time your gun goes off, a new rebel is born
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| So when there’s 41 bullets
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| There’s 41 thousand thorns in your side
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| We’ll take a ride down to precinct 29
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| And we’ll sing and dance and break the code of silence
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| Thank you, governor, thank you, governor
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| To the mayor and the commissioner
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| Your monster is alive now
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| She’s taken to the streets
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| Crashing through your opera house and tearing out the seats
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| For all the times you sign your name
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| Someone out there dies
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| Found a wallet, not a gun
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| A mother wipes a tear from her eyes
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| We despise
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| Your hollow truths and honest lies
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| Now you can sing the monster into slumber
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| Thanks, Bastards, you made me what I am
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| Thanks, bastards, I took the goods and ran
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| I took the goods and ran
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| Homeland security vs. civil liberty
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| I’m studying in the shadows of our state
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| I seen the bones they tried to hide
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| Cutthroat living’s other side
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| The Flood of US bath water displaced
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| The funeral march of all the victims of your power war
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| Rob the right to steal the night and rebels shall be born
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| For ever more
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| You’re the storm we should play after it pours
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| And joy is sure to come after your silence
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| Thanks, Bastards, you made me what I am
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| Thanks, bastards, I took the goods and ran
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| I took the goods and ran |